Jake's POV
I got the message just after midnight.
Not from a scout.
Not from a soldier.
From Greysen himself.
Short. Barely a full sentence.
They’ve stopped moving. Camped southeast of Ridge 9. Coordinates locked. Eyes on. Waiting.
I stared at the words until they burned into my brain.
They’d made it to the edge of the rogue zone. Not fully inside the main camp, not under anyone’s flag.
Just outside it.
Camped near a burned-out forestry post, one that hadn’t been used in five winters.
Unclaimed land.
No official jurisdiction.
No one to cry foul if someone went missing there.
I set the message down carefully and poured water, not whiskey.
I needed to stay sharp.
There was no reason to rush. No reason to lose control.
But the air inside me had changed.
Quieter.
Sharper.
